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Our Pier
We’re standing on the Pier, with the wind rushing through my hair, and your arms wrapped around me, holding me close, almost like your worrying that if you let go of me, for just a second, I might slip away, retreating back to the sea with the waves. I lean my head on your shoulder, and it fits perfectly, almost like it was meant to be like that. I smile to myself, “finally” I breath under my breath. We stand together and I can feel our heart beats. Mine is beating ever so quickly, but then it slows and soothes itself as it matches its beat to yours.
“Look at the ocean, it’s beautiful,” you say, still holding me tight.
“Sometimes, I think to myself, how something so simple can be so beautiful.” I say, and that must make you feel all fuzzy inside; not that you’d ever admit that; because you squeeze me tighter for just a second and then sigh deeply. And that gives me that fuzzy feeling.
Slowly, elegantly, the sun drips down into the ocean, oozing a reflecting cream of gold and orange, carried by ripples in the water, sliding along with the wind. I take a breath of happiness, filling my body with your love and beauty. Thinking of a cheesy line from one of those “chick flick” movies, I spit out the line “Moments aren’t meant to last forever, but I think we could get this one too.” And as I finish speaking, the words seem to have more meaning than cheesiness.
You chuckle with that sarcastic, playful tone in your voice. But I can read you like a book, and that line made your heart ache for me, and mine is aching for you. So why are we waiting? Turning around, I throw my arms around you and hold you as close as you’ve been holding me. And this makes me want to cry, but I’m not sure why. I’m not sad, I’m not depressed, I’m not mad or frustrated. So why do I want to cry?
As the tears begin to well up in my trusting eyes, I feel them glisten with joy. And that’s why I must be crying. I must love you so much that it makes me want to cry, so as I allow the joyous tears slip down my face, smearing my makeup, I look up at you. You chuckle that same chuckle as before. “Your beautiful,” you speak, taking a finger and wiping away my tears.
I know I look like a clown, but I allow the compliment to stick, not bothering to brush it away.
Finally, the sun slips down into the water, enhancing the brightness of the stars. The moon soars over the sea and onto the pier, its light dancing on your face, illuminating every beautiful feature, or maybe it’s just you. Maybe you have a light inside of you that makes you almost like a god, beautiful, graceful. My heart hungers with plead as we begin to walk away from the sea and toward the excitement of the board walk. I don’t want to leave this moment, I don’t want to store it in my mind, but live it every day. Yet that seems far fetched, moments are just moments, turning into memories, swaying into smiles or tears.
But as we enter the hustle and bustle of boardwalk games and carnival rides and bars and restaurants, I don’t mind leaving this moment, because I know that there are so much more to come. And that’s what I think as I hold your hand and we walk close together, not because we’re cold, but because we yearn for each others warmth.
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